


bad luck™

by maraudersourwolf



Series: thiam half birthday 2k18 [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Attempt at Humor, Bad Days, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Living Together, M/M, Swearing, one of those days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 20:46:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14985257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersourwolf/pseuds/maraudersourwolf
Summary: Sometimes you just have one of those days, right?





	bad luck™

**Author's Note:**

  * For [parttimehuman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parttimehuman/gifts), [GlitterCake20](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterCake20/gifts).



> **THIAM WEEK | DAY 4: GAME OF LIFE**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **Mercy,**  
>  your birthday is long since gone and I didn't give you a proper gift.  
> Because I am terrible with timing, like utter shit with it.  
> Again, I do refunds.  
> And I can't thank you enough for allow me to use the chest hair scene.
> 
>  
> 
> **Sammy,**  
>  This fic was mostly born because of your cat picture,  
> so I blame this on you too.
> 
>  
> 
> And to **Life™,**  
>  because it keeps fucking me over.  
> As many times as possible.  
> When I least expect it.  
> This one is for you, asshole. 
> 
>  
> 
> This all comes from my real life experience.  
> I either laugh or go on a murder spree.
> 
>  
> 
> Barely beta’d.  
> A bit messy.  
> Enjoy!

 

 

He hates waking up early.

Some people have this thing where they just naturally and on their own open their eyes to welcome the new beginning day with smiles stretched across their faces and a fairly nice humor. Those are pod people, in his opinion. And Mason is one of them.

Then there’s some people that doesn’t exactly wake up early, more like fashionably late to do lunch instead of breakfast. Liam likes this kind of people. First, because they get what is having dry humor from waking up too early. And second, because they invented brunch.

And _then_ , there’s people like him.

People with great sense of humor, that are actually enjoyable to be around. Really funny,

Awesome people.

That hate waking up.

At all.

But specially hate with the depths of their guts to wake up early, on a Monday from all days, while in the middle of winter.

Yeah, a special brand of torture Liam doesn’t really want to engage with.

 

*

 

Life doesn’t respect no man or woman or non-binary pal.

There’s no magic clock that stops time for him to catch up on it either.

He always had his suspicions.

But now, with the red numbers of the alarm clock on his bedside table practically screaming that he’s most likely gonna go from understandably late to _holy fuck are you kidding me now_ is as much of a reality check as a slap in the middle of the face.

 

*

 

There’s no coffee.

The last of it in a stale mug inside the kitchen sink. A quarter of it still there, far too cold. Enough to stop him from just swallowing it in one go for caffeine’s sake.

The thing is, he didn’t drink coffee last night.

And that’s Theo’s favorite mug. The one he, more than one, got angry at Liam for taking it without permission. Because they can share body fluids but not mugs, it seems.

And no matter how much he glares at the ceramic, there’s still no coffee.

On a Monday morning.

When he has college.

And his boyfriend knew.

A traitor, that’s what Theo is.

 

*

 

The bus is packed.

Of fucking course it’s packed, because it’s monday. It’s cold as fuck too. And the universe decided that he needs to go fuck himself today in particular from all days because his bike’s tires are dead to the world and so is his sense of responsibility.

He barely if had one ticket worth to go on the bus.

A baby screams a couple of sits behind as an extra wake up alarm he didn’t need.

And a guy he doesn’t know invades his personal space enough to think that maybe he wants them to fuse together. Or cop a feel. Just seconds before Liam turns to tell him in a very no PG-13 manner to step the fuck away, stranger danger _sneezes_ hard enough for a glob of snot to fall right on his shoulder.

And then gets down the bus.

Without even handing a tissue.

Maybe if he wishes hard enough for a new plague to kill everyone around, someone up there will hear his screams for help.

 

*

 

Maybe it’s the adrenaline trick of _holy fuck I’m running later than usual_ or who knows, but the time seems to tic faster now.

Or the bus is going slower.

He doesn’t exactly wants to be mean, but his grandma could walk past the bus at any time. And she’s been dead for almost a year.

Letting go of the security bar he had been clutching for dear life half the drive, he turns ready to walk the couple of steps he needs to get closer to the driver and ask in a very polite and civil way how fucking long they think it would take to get to his damn college.

From the get to go, in retrospective, is a recipe to catastrophe.

There’s the distinctive loud noise of an engine asking for a bit of compassion and the speed goes from turtles slow walking on the beach to _pal, you have been playing too much videogames, this isn’t a F1 race for fuck’s sake_.

0.02 seconds later and Liam’s landing with his ass on the floor.

And his dignity somewhat hitting even lower.

Seems like bus riders can read minds now too.

And he might even make it on time.

  
  
*

 

It wasn’t even his bus.

 

*

 

By some divine force on his side and a free ride into the bus that he triple checked was his, he makes it on time.

Somehow, it’s not enough.

 

*

 

It’s not that he made it on time, because of course Life doesn’t know how to work on his favor. Not even once.

It’s that the professor had cancelled the first lesson of the day.

And he forgot to check.

 

*

 

A surprise quiz.

Who, on their right mind, takes a surprise quiz to a bunch of sleep deprived, hungover and/or deep into an existential crisis students at 10 am in the morning on a _Narnia is a pretty nice caribbean place compared to this_ levels of cold morning?

A psycho, that’s who.

And his professor seems to be part of that club.

 

*

 

He fell asleep.

Because it wasn’t enough to try to work his brain into remember things he barely learned to fill a quiz he’s not even sure how he even got in the first place. No, of course not. He also needed to drift off while doing it and promptly fall asleep on top of his hand, that fell asleep too.

And snore.

Because, y’know.

_Commitment._

 

*

 

Liam not only forgot to bring something for lunch, but also forgot his wallet.

Or maybe stranger danger did get something from his back pocket when he only got a portion of germs that didn’t know was on the breakfast menu, who knows.

A menu that, aside the snot, he wished could access because having no breakfast and no coffee isn’t exactly improving in his humor or the fact that he just needs to take an extra second while blinking to just fall asleep in place.

Hungry, tired and pouty.

Never been closer to be a toddler once again than right now.

 

*

 

There’s three sounds of ripping that’s usual to hear around college sort of often.

Paper ripping, that usually comes from teachers or students throwing away essays or exams or even old notes that look more like an ancient language ready to summon a beast that a handwriting of any sorts.

Cardboard ripping, that’s loudest and usually accompanied by a scream of defeat or success in a true warrior way, because college is a war and you can win or lose at any moment in hands of the small pack of piranhas called presentations.

And then, there’s clothes ripping.

It’s the nastiest one and more attention finder thing there could be. He’s not proud to say that, like most people, his head have turned around in a very _exorcist kid had a child with an owl_ way too many times following the sound like that gif of the dramatic chipmunk.

So maybe that’s the reason why karma decided that it was due for it to happen to him.

And it’s not that he cares, but the side rip to show his side shin is so 90’s that he can’t help but feel a little too Britney Spears for his taste.

 

*

 

The thing with forgetting important stuff, like a wallet, is that it's usually 1 (one) thing at a time.

Unless you have been fucking pissed by a dinosaur hating your whole existence, 65.000 billion years right before you were even born.

Then you also forget the paper that’s worth 70% total of your grade at home too.

 

*

 

Somewhere between five minutes before noon and actual noon, the weather changes. There’s humidity, enough to grow his own ecosystem in the dampness of his neck, and a huge sun making everything crispy and closer to death.

Or a sunburn, that’s almost like death.

Now he’s sticky and sweaty and probably cooking himself on his own juices in the not really flavory way.

And what is worse, it’s moment for the winter coat on hanging on a limb you decided sacrifice walk of shame.

 

*

 

After further inspections, Liam decides that he’s not really a weather warrior and that college isn’t really worth the hassle, so it’s time for a strategic retreat home.

 

*

 

Liam knows there’s no real reason behind your earbuds getting tangled and, at some point, have one of them giving up too early in life. Which is always the left one for him, weirdly enough because he’s a right-hand kind of person.

But he’s aware there’s no explanation behind it. Maybe the pocket elves, maybe a curse. Maybe just the fact that he’s not exactly careful with his stuff. It just happens because that’s how life works.

You live and you die. You have a perfect functioning set of earbuds and then you don’t.

He knows, okay?

What he doesn’t know is how does that even happen when he bought them the day before.

 

*

 

He has to admit that doing the retreat thing without money for a bus ticket, a bike or comfortable shoes was most likely not the best thought plan.

Specially when you have 40 blocks aheads and your only company is one ear filled music, one ear filled city noise, and your really really bad humor.

Hell never seemed cozier.

 

*

 

If there’s one thing that he hates more than his own stinky dampness is an _external_ stinky dampness that comes specifically from the only puddle in the goddamn city that God knows where it came from or what is it made of.

Just the perfect place to stick your foot into.

 

*

 

Splinters?

Sure, why not.

It’s not like his whole day wasn’t already shitty enough.

 

*

 

People would think that after living in the same apartment for two years, you don’t get lost.

People would think wrong.

 

*

 

Because Life can’t let go of whatever grudge it decided to have against him in this very unique day, the elevator is broken.

Not in maintenance.

Not being fixed.

Not occupied.

_Broken._

Which means going up to his 8th floor apartment by the stairs.

Next time Theo wants to see the whole town by the window, he can go get a ferris wheel ticket.

 

*

 

No matter how many times he slaps his pants pockets, the distinct _this square thing barely fitting here isn’t a tumor but a phone_ isn’t there.

And listen, he can lose his wallet or his money, even his backpack.

Maybe, with too much stretch, his keys.

But his phone?

No sir, no.

There’s a whole life of secrets there that he should keep forever hidden.

Turning around and deciding to go down the stairs almost frantically, to backtrack on himself, he slips on the last five steps and falls.

Thankfully, the very puffy jacket on his hands serves as a perfect aid to avoid impersonating Humpty Dumpty falling down the wall.

Now, there’s one thing.

The dreaded cracking of glass.

 

*

 

When he finally goes inside the apartment, aching body and the screen of his phone shattered beyond repair, is to find Theo lying sprawled on the couch, snuggled between cushions and under one of the coziest blankets they have, zapping through the TV channels aimlessly in the way that telltales that he’s actually falling asleep, with his lacrosse hoodie on.

The very one Liam has been planning on his second fix of climb the stairs to put on, discard his pants and take the nap of his life. Theo could or not have been included on those plans, the coffee incident yet not forgotten.

And maybe in another moment it would have been the starter for a impromptu cuddle session on the couch.

But right now, this scene in front of his very eyes?

The utter betrayal.

With a huff, the one that makes Theo usually call him _‘the pouty pup’_ , Liam walks towards the couch ready to rip the hoodie out of his traitorous boyfriend’s frame and reclaime it as his.

Theo, not sensing the threat, turns at the sound of footsteps and smiles droopily at Liam, with the sides of his eyes crinkling and the corners of his mouth in a soft curl upwards.

"Good that you're finally home," Theo greets him with his voice low and raspy, sending a shiver down Liam’s spine, “I have a surprise for you”

The shorter boy stutters in his walk because this is not only a betrayal but also an attack on his well being and his will to reclaim that damn hoodie.

"A surprise?," he asks, trying to not show his uncertainty.

"Do you remember when we found out I totally have a thing for chest hair?," Theo asks, the cocky grin on his lips losing his desired effect and instead pushing Liam closer to a state of Intense Puppy Cuddling™.

He can’t cave.

He.

Must.

_Not_.

Cave.

"And here I was thinking that you totally have a thing for me," Liam bickers back easily, settling his jacket and cracked phone over the coffee table without any care. His eyes aren’t settled in Theo but every other sense is.

Because they are weird, that’s their thing. Theo with his really creepy brand of weird, him with his really adorable brand of weird and Mason completely disagreeing and saying they both hit the creepy _and_ concerning weird milestone long ago. But this Twilight Zone situation right here?

Weirder than ever.

"Of course I do," Theo huffs and shifts around, sending every nerve cell in Liam’s body into alert. "The point is, I got myself some chest hair too."

And that isn’t at all what Liam was expecting to hear.

_What the actual fuck._

"You what?," Liam turns and looks at his boyfriend, completely disoriented. There’s a whole universe of possibilities going in his mind and none of them fit at all.

Did Theo find one of those weird and really sketchy looking balms to grow hair? An implant? Someone else with chest hair to pass his time when Liam isn’t around? Did he buy one of those toupee and glued it on his chest? Can you buy chest hair extentions? Rent some?

Wait, what if he glued Liam’s loose chest hair into his own?

Oh god.

"Come here,” Theo whispers, pushing the blanket out from his body to a side and Liam feels overcomed by the need to put it back in place, “I'll show you”.

Liam isn’t exactly sure he wants Theo to show him. The idea of having someone else’s fake hair glued there makes the perfect folder of neverending nightmares that Liam do not need to see at all. He’d like to keep his sanity as much as possible, thank you very much.

"C’mon,” Theo mumbles gently, “give me your hand”.

Liam hesitates for a moment but soon relents. Because he trusts his boyfriend, even is every survival instinct in his body yells to do the exact opposite. Reaching towards Theo, who takes his wrist and leads his hand towards the front of the hoodie, pushing it under the collar into the warm fabric, past the smooth skin of Theo’s collarbones until his fingertips reach something even warmer.

It's furry, yes.

And also very alive.

"Oh my god," Liam breathes out, half awed and half completely disgusted by the living nightmare that seems to be unfolding in front of his very existence, quickly taking his hand away from the cave of warmth and boyfriend’s skin that harbours who knows what.

He just wanted to go back home, forget his awful day and sleep. Was it really too much to ask for?

There’s soon a little extra head poking from the collar of the hoodie. Small, with extra whiskers and a furriness that doesn’t match chest hair at all. A baby black cat, bad luck incarnate, right in his living room.

On the couch.

Over his boyfriend.

After the whole crappy day he just had.

One of the little ears moves like a satellite, surveying the room on it’s own, and Theo peels his green eyes, glinting with childish excitement barely restrained, away from the tiny ball of fur to lay it on Liam and smiles in that soft stupid way that makes the shorter boy want to hand his boyfriend the moon, the stars and the whole universe if possible.

Liam can’t help but to immediately melt.

"Who is that?," he coos, long since forgotten the whole repertoire of things that shouldn’t be over his boyfriend’s chest but now possibly had made a home out of it.

A kitten shouldn’t be there either, but it’s better than a second-handed dusty toupee.

"Followed me home from the grocery store and cried outside the door until I let it in. Was thinking about heading tomorrow to the animal shelter and leave it there”

Liam doesn't mention that for the cat to enter the building, someone must have held the door open and waited, because there’s an alarm coded door.

Or that it is actually too small to climb the eight set of stairs to their floor. Unless someone carried it.

Or the tucking under the hoodie that obviously implies the opposite of what Theo’s saying, more like _this is now a new feature in our lives, better get used to it._

So instead, Liam relents into playing along and make Theo think that he thinks that Theo thinks that he’s saying the truth.

Because that’s the kind of thing you do for love.

Pretend that you’re the softie one.

“What? No! You can’t show me a baby cat and then take it away! That’s cruel, Theo! It likes it here, see? Look at its little face and the little whiskers and its little ears--”

Then That Smirk™. The one Theo uses when he convinced someone and gets exactly what he wants.

Liam would feel honored by that reaction if it wasn’t for the fact that he has known since a little kid that he can’t act for shit. He’s terrible. Lying isn’t in his nature, even if it’s for a life or death situation.

This? It all comes from Theo and his huge need to keep the cat.

Which had never been in their plans, even if they both wanted one. And now that his eyes are on the small hairy black ball curled in the crook of Theo’s neck, he feels impossibly attached for the five minutes he’s been inside the apartment.

He sort of wants the little ball of fluff to stay too.

“Great, because I already bathed and fed her and ordered a cat bed online that will be here tomorrow, right Sammy? Right, princess? Say hello to daddy, baby girl”

Sammy.

He would have named the cat something cooler, like Purrinator.

But Sammy is fine, he guesses.

Not that it is important, because Theo soft smile is directed again at the ball of adorable void that barely if looks real and that Liam knows will be the most spoiled creature ever.

The cat purrs and Liam finds himself mistified not only by the sound but also by the pure bliss written in Theo's face. And by a tone of voice he never heard his boyfriend use before, a mix of cooing and a strange human version of purring, murmuring that childish song Liam doesn’t exactly knows how it got stored in their brain because neither of them saw the show it’s from. But it’s there. Side by side with any other basic instincts.

“Soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of fur”

Liam watches how his boyfriend exaggerates his facial expressions for a kitten that has its eyes closed due to the faint tapping over its nose. For a moment he thinks if maybe Theo completely lost it while he wasn’t at home and this is just an early stage of being the crazy person.

“Happy kitty, sleepy kitty, purr purr purr”

But he can’t deny that he looks completely adorable and utterly happy, all of his walls down in a way that had taken Liam months. And took the cat, what? Hours? Probably just minutes. Not even that. _Seconds_.

He’s not getting jealous of a kitten.

No, sir.

Nope.

Not at all.

Okay, maybe a little.

He had a bad day, he’s still kinda grumpy and he wants all the attention his boyfriend can give him. But there’s a kitten. Who can compete against a kitten? He should be settling rules for the little hairy goblin, so they get to live under the same roof and shares Theo’s love equally just to avoid having its furry little ass back on the street.

Who is he kidding, Theo is most likely going to kick him out before the cat.

He doesn’t even have enough time to seethe into the imaginary universe inside his head where his boyfriend prefers a cat, when big black eyes open and look at him, followed by a rather loudly meowing.

And that’s it.

He’s a goner too.

Maybe that’s why he misses his big of a softie boyfriend talking to him.

“What?”

“I asked how was your day”

Liam glances quickly at the broken phone over the coffee table that knows no miracle and the mug at its side, now half empty with coffee. Then down at his wet and ripped pants. And lastly up at Theo’s face, who’s brow has starting to furrow in concern at the lack of the usual quick response of him ranting about minimal things.

But how can he rant about _something_ when his whole fucking day was a big _everything_?

“Now it’s fine,” Liam mutters and smiles.

Theo gives back a smile of his own and looks back down at his chest, where the kitten is now spreading its little paws and little beanie toes. Liam moves closer, enough so one of his fingers get trapped under the little claws, before the small flare of jealousy shifts towards his boyfriend because he’s taking all the kitten’s attention.

As if reading his mind, Theo snorts and leans closer so he can kiss the corner of his mouth, the corner of his lips gently curling upwards in a lazy yet happy smile that Liam quickly returns.

“This is the best day ever,” Theo mutters against his lips.

And all in all, Liam thinks he’s might be right.

 


End file.
